Of Baby Birds and Rainbow Socks
by Sianatra
Summary: Rose is seven years old and already reaching for the sky, but she doesn't know a few crucial facts of life, and Ron isn't too keen on revealing them.


**Rose, Age 7**

"Ehmygawd!" A shriek came from the upper floor of our two-story house. "Ehmygawd, dad, you've _got _to see this! It's, like, awesome!"

I quirked an eyebrow, wondering what could have possibly caused my daughter to respond with such an outburst.

I got my answer rather quickly, as it turned out.

Rose came flying down the banister of the staircase, her wild red hair streaming behind her. "Ehmygawd, ehmygawd, ehmygawd!" she shrieked once again, jumping off the banister and skidding towards me in her rainbow colored toe-socks. I caught her before she fell, and she gave me a lopsided, bucktoothed smile. "Thanks, Dad," she said breathlessly. "You, like, saved me. And this." She held out her small little palm, where a tiny, fragile-looking white egg rested. "I found it in Shrek and Fiona's cage like, just now."

Shrek and Fiona were her parakeets, both green and both extremely annoying in my opinion. They squawked all night long, but Rose seemed to love them, so Hermione and I had granted her the small pleasure of allowing them under our roof. However, as I looked down at the tiny egg in my daughter's hand, I realized that I should have gotten rid of them long ago. We'd have a parakeet farm on our hands if we weren't careful.

Rose frowned. "Like, what is it, Daddy?"

She looked up at me with those pretty little eyes, those soft, sweet eyes just like her mother's, and something inside me forced me to respond.

"It's an egg, sweetie."

"What's an egg?"

Her innocence and naivety struck me like a bullet.

"Honey, an egg is something that a baby bird grows inside. When the egg cracks open, the baby bird will be ready to come out."

Her eyes got huge. "So you're saying there's, like, a _bird_? In _here_? In, like, this itsy bitsy little _egg_?"

"Yeah," I said, trying not to smile at her amazement. "It's a bird. And soon it will hatch, and Shrek and Fiona will have a new buddy to play with."

Her brow furrowed for a moment. "But wait," she said, trying to absorb all this new information at once. "Where… where did it come from?"

_Oh God. The one question I wasn't willing to answer just yet._

"Daddy?" She peered at me through her lashes. "How did it get in the cage?"

I looked at her sadly, taking in her frizzed hair, her sparkling blue eyes, her well-worn rainbow toe-socks. She looked so young, but so _wise_, standing there in front of me and holding the egg in her hands, and suddenly, I decided that I would tell her. Rose was seven; she was old enough to understand. She was smart for her age. So I began to talk.

"Baby, the egg got in the cage because Shrek and Fiona –"

"WAIT!"

Her sudden yelp seemed to surprise both me and her, because she took a quick step backwards.

"Sorry," she muttered quietly, gazing at the egg as if she had never seen anything more interesting in her life. "I just… I thought I, like, felt something."

We both stared at the egg for a few moments, her holding her breath in anticipation, me exhaling in relief. I had gotten off the hook. At least momentarily. But sure enough, Rose had been right. A small, fine crack was beginning to appear on the shell of the egg.

She looked at me, excitement burning in her eyes. "Ehmygawd, you were right, Dad," she whispered in wonder. "It really _is_ a baby bird."

We watched in anticipation for a few moments as first the beak appeared, then the head, then the little body. The shell crumbled in Rose's hand and a small pair of feet poked out of the debris. The bird stood up on trembling, fragile legs and looked at Rose with curious eyes.

Rose looked like she had just died on the spot. "IT'S A BABY BIRD!" she screamed. "LIKE, A REAL BIRD!" She whirled on me. "What should I name it?"

"Donkey?" I suggested sarcastically.

I had forgotten how naive my daughter was. "That's perfect!" she cajoled. She started cooing at the new addition to our family. "My, you're just a pretty baby, aren't you? A pretty, pretty baby bird. Pretty baby Donkey. Do you want to meet Shrek and Fiona, Donkey? They're so nice, and look at you, you're so nice too!" She glanced up at me. "I'm going to show Donkey to Shrek and Fiona. Is that okay?"

I nodded, and she beamed. "Okay, Dad, thanks. I'll see you, like, later, oaky?"

"Okay, sweetie. Have fun."

She turned and bounded up the stairs, making sure to keep Donkey cupped safely in her hands.

When she disappeared into her room, I collapsed down into the nearest armchair, dragging a hand across my face. It had been close, really close this time, but I was saved just before I had to say anything of importance.

I really couldn't let it wait much longer, though.

My baby bird was starting to grow up, whether I liked it or not.

* * *

><p><strong>an.** Review please? Tell me what you think(:

xoxo,  
>-Sianatra<p> 


End file.
